


Misunderstanding

by investigayting



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, One-Shot, Teenlock, bi!john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2854598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/investigayting/pseuds/investigayting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secret Santa gift for <a href="http://snowlockery.tumblr.com">Bella (snowlockery)</a>. Merry Christmas!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Dani (thelittlebitofeverythinggirl)](http://thelittlebitofeverythinggirl.tumblr.com) for beta-ing for me!

"Seriously, John, tell me! Who is it?” Mike teased, towel-drying his hair in the locker room after his post-rugby practice shower.

“How do you even know that it _is_ anyone?” John complained, already knowing it was a lost cause. Mike knew him far too well, it seemed.

“Are you aware of how many times I’ve seen you go through this cycle, crush to first date to break-up? I know the signs with you, mate.”

“Fine. Yes, I’m interested in someone. Don’t worry about it though, I doubt it will go anywhere.”

“What, you’re not even going to ask her out?”

“Well, I _would_ , but I’m… scared to.”

“How come?”

John glared. “If I tell you, it does not leave this room. Got it?” With a nod from Mike, he continued, “I’d really like to kiss her, and I probably would if she said yes, but the truth is, I’m kinda nervous about it.”

“You’re nervous. About kissing.”

John was silent. He was _really_ not ready for this conversation. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to say another word on the topic, Mike shook his head. “Whatever, mate. If it’s really that big a deal, just find someone to practice with.”

“Great idea. Thanks.” It was actually the worst idea in the world, but John had to leave, _now_.

~~~~~

Sherlock disappeared around the corner the moment he heard John’s footsteps turn toward the open door. He hadn’t meant to be eavesdropping, not really. Well, maybe a little bit, but it was going to be under the pretense of returning the biology notes that he’d borrowed (but hadn’t needed, of course) after skipping class all of last week. He wasn’t sure if he was borrowing notes instead of going to class in order to avoid John or get to talk to him more. Probably both. It was hardly logical, but then again he was never logical around John. He hated it and he hated John’s _stupid_ smile that always made him speak like a bumbling idiot.

Whatever his excuse was going to have been, he had just overheard a private conversation, and John would be angry if he found out. So flee the scene of the crime it was. He could return the biology notes later that day when John came over to look at cases with him.

~~~~~

_Ding-Dong!_

Sherlock jumped at the sound of the doorbell chime, racing to the front door to open it for the very handsome blonde he knew would be standing there.

After exchanging greetings and making tea, Sherlock and John made their way down to the basement, where Sherlock had laid out the case files they’d decided to spend the evening discussing.

But John’s voice and his eyes and his hair and his _smile_ made it extremely difficult for Sherlock to concentrate, and although he tried to hide just how affected he was by John’s mere presence, it was only a matter of time before John picked up on Sherlock’s slow and less-than-eloquent deductions.

“Are you okay, Sherlock?” He asked eventually, brow taut with concern.

“Of course I am. It’s _you_ who we should be worried about. I can’t concentrate with all that anxious energy radiating from you. Something’s bothering you. Tell me what it is.” John’s difficult love life was not, in fact, the reason for his current mental ineptitude, but it served as the perfect cover-up. Of course he already knew exactly what it was that was bothering John, but there was no way for him to explain how he knew, so he had to ask John to explain it to him.

But John’s reaction, as it often was, was not what Sherlock had expected. Instead of telling Sherlock what he had told Mike, John’s face shut down and his tone became guarded. “That’s personal, Sherlock. You can’t just demand me tell you like that and assume I’ll do it. Besides, can’t you just deduce it?”

Fair enough. Sherlock probably could have deduced most of it, but not everything. Hopefully John wouldn’t ask him the specifics of how he knew. “Girl problems.” John looked up sharply. “I apologize for the assumption. It was based on the apparently false belief that you generally tell me far more than I’m interested in knowing about your romantic exploits.” John _almost_ smiled at that. “You want to ask her out, but you’re nervous what will happen if she kisses you. Whatever reason that may be, I can’t deduce. But you’re considering finding someone to practice with. Someone you trust. I wouldn’t be averse if you decide that to be your course of action.” Wait, _what?_ How did that slip out of his mouth? Damn John and his ability to bring down Sherlock’s guard and instead elicit the first thing that pops into his mind.

John was still looking at Sherlock steadily. He never had been off-put by Sherlock deducing him. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Okay?” Sherlock repeated. Sherlock _never_ repeated.

“Um. Yeah. I- I’ll kiss you. For practice.” John coughed, and shuffled closer.

This was both the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to Sherlock. He was going to kiss John Watson, and he was going to kiss John Watson. The former, he had been wanting to do nearly since he met the boy. The latter, he was extremely nervous about due to the fact that, while John had kissed girls from three different continents, Sherlock had never kissed anybody before. John would see through him in seconds. Oh well, it was too late to back out now. Hopefully the one kiss would be worth whatever followed.

He leaned in as John leaned up, and at the first brush of lips, a spark raced down Sherlock’s spine. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to pull away and then run. This had been a very bad idea. But John only pressed more insistently, and then his tongue was swiping at Sherlock’s lip. At that, Sherlock gasped and jumped slightly, and when John started to smile, Sherlock pulled away, blushing and not meeting John’s eyes.

“Sorry,” he muttered, but John was… _chuckling_.

“You’re not angry?” He asked tentatively.

“What? Angry that you wanted to kiss me? Albeit under false pretenses- you thought _you_ could teach _me_ how to kiss?” John was almost laughing.

Of course Sherlock had a retort to that. “Why did you even _want_ help? You’ve had plenty of girlfriends over the past few months, and it’s clear you were worried over nothing.”

John blushed. Sherlock, at least, hadn’t denied that he’d wanted to kiss John. The only option now was honesty. “Well, yeah but… see… I’m perfectly confident in my ability to kiss _women_ , but the person I’m interested in--”

“Is a man,” Sherlock interrupted as he struggled to keep his face passive at his deduction that John had only said “ _she_ ” in the locker room because Mike had.

John had been going to say “ _is you_ ,” but Sherlock’s assessment was also perfectly true, so he just said, “yeah.”

There was a new nugget of information about John. He was _bisexual_. How had he failed to deduce this previously? Oh well, it was of little consequence anyway. It didn’t matter that John was attracted to men. He’d surely never be attracted to _Sherlock_. Best to cut his losses and run. He had kissed John. That was more than enough victory for a lifetime. He stood abruptly, and attempted to flee the room without making it look like he was fleeing.

“Whoa, wait, _Sherlock!_ ” John grabbed his arm before he could take more than two paces.

Sherlock spun around. “ _What?_ ” he spat, completely forgetting that he _did not have emotions about this_.

“Where are you _going_? You basically just admitted to wanting to kiss me. Has that changed in the last two minutes?”

And suddenly, Sherlock couldn’t breathe.

“Sherlock?”

“I’m fine,” he felt the need to insist. “You’ve obviously by now figured out that kissing men is no different from kissing women. Go stick your tongue down your boyfriend’s throat. I need air.”

He again made to leave the room, but John’s grip on his arm only tightened. “What. The. Hell.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. _Now_ John was mad at him?

“You are the bloody _stupidest_ genius I have _ever_ \--” John cut off his sentence and let out a huff of air instead.

“John, I don’t under--” but suddenly Sherlock couldn’t speak anymore because John’s lips were, for the second time that day, pressed against his. And, as John’s hand moved from its death grip on his arm to a gentle caress in his hair, Sherlock understood.


End file.
